P. Power - Knight of the Realm

When they got back on everyone but he and Sara were sweating pretty hard. Was it warm? It took a second to find them, but he handed out the new glowing emotion tattling equalizers and suggested that people keep them hidden, unless they wanted to share with the world what they were feeling. Smythe wore no particular expression as he passed them around, until Tor gave him one too. Then the older man went cold and disproving.

Because obviously that was the polite thing to do when someone gave you a gift. Right?

“Trying to buy my good will with trinkets like a common whore boy?” He said, his voice mean and angry sounding.

Sara stared at the man, and looking around he noticed that everyone else was too. One of the Royal Guards let their hand fall to the weapons pouch at their side, the tall black haired woman that looked half hawk and still would have been exotically pretty if she didn't currently have a sneer on her face. She wasn't staring at him this time. No, her gaze was only for the Counselor.

“Nope. This is just part of business. We need you focused on getting the truth, not hiding in the shade fanning yourself in misery.” Tor held up his right hand, “Not that you would, but it's hot and humid there, all the time. If you can't sleep for days or whatever, that effects what you can do, no matter how tough you are mentally. This will help. Take it or not, it isn't a trick or bribe, just a tool to make work easier. However it certainly is meant to win everyone else's good will though.” Tor gave him a gentle and bemused look, trying to show disdain without being the rude one. Which was still rude, he realized, so he made himself stop and just nod a little instead.

Smythe put the amulet on coldly and triggered it, then fought not to show how much better he felt. The guard woman relaxed, but kept her eyes trained on the man the whole time. At least one of them did, always. They looked at Tor occasionally, but didn't focus like that.

So… had they been ordered to watch the Counselor? That made sense and let him feel a bit better. It would be nice to think that not everyone blamed him for everything at least. He kept having the odd idea that he was in trouble, even though he'd only tried to help people and do what they asked.

And put up with more crap than anyone should have too. Well, having Smythe along should make the Wards feel better in a lot of ways. After all, the guy had tried to kill him, and here Tor was, working with him, if not actually forgiving him yet. Did that make him look weak? Probably. But then, who was he fooling? He wasn't the biggest or the strongest, not the best fighter in the room even. Really, he wondered if he could even take Sorlee if it came to it. If she was well trained the case may be he couldn't. He really needed to do his running when he could. Well, maybe he'd have time when he wasn't working on this investigation mess. Smythe really didn't want his help, so what else was there to do? Right, make that hand for Trice.

Sara jostled his arm.

“Um, Tor? Your bag is glowing.” She pointed helpfully, since he'd obviously been thinking. Of course with him something glowing suddenly could actually mean anything from a sigil being turned on by accident to an explosion about to take place, so he smiled at her and hurried to fix it.

Tor opened it quickly and hit the sigil that said “Capital”, it was glowing blue, and floating about a half inch above the focus stone, exactly as planned.

“Hello?” He said loudly enough that everyone looked at him with interest. Most of them knew about the communications devices already. Sara gave him a strange look though, as if he were talking to himself. Again.

Like he talked to himself? He didn't even mutter in his sleep. Not that he could recall at least. The nerve of the girl. It took an act of will to keep himself from smiling.

Richard spoke, sounding like his voice came from the palm of Tor's right hand. Crisp and clear.

“Tor! I wanted to try this and see how it worked. Can you hear me?” The familiar voice of the King, with several people whispering excitedly in the back ground.

“Sure can. It looks like we’re about half an hour outside of Warden right now, so it seems like the range is going to work fine on this.”

The was a bit of rustling in the background.

“Hi Tor!”

A happy, but unfamiliar voice came across suddenly, softer than the King’s. It got a laugh from the room. Wait… Karina's friend with the cute face and the large breasts?

“Hello Ali.” Tor had to smile. The girl had a sweet innocence about her. It made his voice sound kind and gentle, thinking that.

Sara gave him and odd look but didn't speak. It was, Tor finally realized, reading her field almost as a matter of habit, Sara's jealous look. He'd seen it before, but never got what it was supposed to mean. Usually it had been aimed towards Trice though, so it could be faked up in an attempt to manipulate him. Only, he knew for a fact it wasn’t. Not this time.

The King sounded very happy when he continued.

“Excellent! With this I can confer with you all daily and even sit in on interviews or hold my own at need. We'll rush those other units out to their destinations directly.” A little more softly the King asked who had the duty.

The question was going to the room in the palace, but Tor knew the answer.

“Squire Gemma. She knows where everything needs to go, and how the devices work, so she can teach others.” For some reason this got a small stir from the room on the other end of the device.

“Of course. Well, she is a Squire, I'd normally prefer to send someone older, but… well in war we must rob children of their youth too soon at times. Do we have a transport we can spare?”

From the front Sorlee called out, loudly, since she was flying and couldn't turn around.

“Several at Wildlands Station, your highness sir, um Sire, ask for Ferra at the whorehouse, she's as good a driver as any and, likes kids. In a motherly way of course. Plus she's got a good direction sense, if you're flying all about the kingdom. Be good practice for her too, if we set up a whole fleet to go all around the land as planned.”

Rolph laughed loudly and offered to go too. After all, Ferra was kind of cute. It was a joke, clearly, so everyone else chuckled along.

Everyone stopped laughing when the King agreed.

Except Tor. It really was kind of funny.

Tor hit the sigil hanging on the inside wall that changed the way the craft looked about a half mile from Warden, after conferring with Smythe on it. The white haired man didn’t smile or frown about it, he just nodded twice, agreeing with the timing.

Sorlee went slow, drifting low over the city while people pointed and looked up at them waving, and calling to them happily. So far this was the friendliest place he'd ever been, people smiled at you and said hello even if they didn't know you, and rarely fought with each other, at least in public. It happened, that was kind of natural, people being, well, people, but the feeling was one of happiness over all.

They settled in the spot that had held the demonstration magic house when he was last there, it having been taken down. The grass had suffered under it, but was starting to come back. The other place, where he'd been living, looked better already. Tor wondered if he should find a new place for his house here, so that the nice and well cared for lawn didn't suffer? Maybe there was a good space outside the city? After all, they didn't have a problem with flying here, since almost no one did it and there were fewer noble kids to race through the streets crippling children by bashing into them.

This time they were met by the Count, his wife, the Dowager Ward and Trice, who seemed happy enough at first, but let her face fall when she saw him. He scowled back angrily, then forced his face into an obviously fake smile. Sara saw all this and looked worried, which she honestly felt for some reason. He knew because he was holding her hand, and it tightened in his. Letting go he triggered his shield and looked at her smiling warmly until she did the same.